


Sweet Goodbye

by Van



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Angst, Frottage, M/M, Romance, Sex, Time Travel, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 01:17:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15853278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Van/pseuds/Van
Summary: Jamie wants a proper farewell.





	Sweet Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Set _during_ both "The War Machines" and "Evil of the Daleks" as the two stories take place on the same day, around the same location. (At the end of the first serial, and the beginning of the second.) Originally written 8 January 2007. Betaing provided by randominity. I sort of dreamt this up, and then wrote it for lithrael on the promise that she'd watch "The War Machines" before I posted it. Now that she has, here it is. :)

“ _Ben_!”

The strangled cry came from the lips of a boy that Ben identified as an oddly dressed Scot only moments before those said lips were crushing up against his. The knapsack he’d been carrying over his shoulder slipped to the ground with a thud as he rocked back on his feet, and that was good thing, as the boy soon had him shoved up against the wall of the alley they were currently in. 

Ben’s mind reeled in reaction to the hard body pressed up against his, the warm hands gripping at his sides, and the hot mouth that was furiously working against his. It had to be a case of mistaken identity, and he really ought to be wondering what the hell the boy thought he was doing, but damn if there wasn’t something horribly, tabooishly arousing about all this.

Ben finally managed to turn his head and free his mouth, but that just meant the Scot descended on his neck, nipping at the skin above his sailor collar. Ben sucked in a sharp breath of air, trying to convince himself that being assaulted by a pervert in a back alley was not arousing. He was about the shove the kid off him with a friendly, well-placed punch, when the boy began speaking.

“Thought I’d no’ ever see y’ again,” he breathed, raising his mouth to Ben’s ear. There he bit at the skin just beneath Ben’s jaw, before pulling his earlobe between his teeth and exhaling harshly into his ear. “Y’ just left and I did no’ get a proper farewell.” The Scot’s large hands slid over Ben’s narrow hips and up his sides, exploring like they already knew where to go.

“Hold up, mate,” Ben managed to choke out. His eyes were glazed and lidded, his brain not quite firing all its guns, but the realization that this might be more than a random sex encounter in a back alley stole over him. He attempted to put his hands on the boy’s chest, to ward him off, but all that he succeeded in doing was gripping the Scot’s heather grey polo neck jumper in his fists. “What’s going on?”

“Some fellows stole th’ TARDIS,” the kid replied, his breath coming in rough pants as he stopped from necking Ben long enough to reply. “We went chasing after them, but they loaded it up on a big lorry and got away.”

“TARDIS?” Ben groaned. He really ought to be shoving the man off him, but there was something strangely familiar about all this, and it stayed his hand. The pleasant way the boy was making him feel didn’t hurt, either.

“Aye,” the Scot replied, his breath rushing hotly over the moist spot on his neck. “So me an’ th’ Doctor split up t’ look for it.” Hands were suddenly tugging up on Ben’s shirt, and then there was flesh on flesh as fingers slid up against his stomach. “Didn’t expect t’ find you.”

“Doctor?” Ben echoed, trying to concentrate on what the boy was saying, and not on what his hands were doing. “You mean . . . you mean that old chap what stopped WOTAN?”

The boy laughed and nuzzled his neck. “Yeah, probably,” he agreed, then bit Ben’s neck in such a way that his knees nearly buckled; how the hell did he know to do that? “How d’ y’ unfasten these things?” the boy asked as he tugged at the hem of Ben’s trousers. “Never seen y’ wear this type before, and boy y’ changed fast.”

Ben was quite positive he’d never met this strangely dressed Scot before, and certainly not intimately enough to have the boy know what sort of trousers he usually wore when out of uniform, if he had. “Listen, mate,” he reluctantly began, “I think you’ve got me mixed up for some other bloke,” he said. His hands finally stopped gripping the jumper and he gently pushed the boy away from him.

Dark eyes studied him from beneath a sweep of Beatle fringe. There was no look of confusion or misunderstanding in the boy’s eyes; whoever this Scot thought he was, he obviously still thought it. “Is that supposed t’ be a joke?” the boy asked.

Ben gave a crooked smile. “You tell me, mate. Far as I know, I’ve never seen you day a before in me life.” His eyes glanced down to take the boy in completely. “Though I can’t say I’m minding the sight terribly much.”

The expression on the boy’s face changed rather suddenly as he finally realized that Ben wasn’t joking at all. “It’s me,” he said, empathetically. “Jamie.”

“Jamie,” Ben replied, grinning rather pleasantly. “Nice t’ meet ya.”

The light in Jamie’s eyes darkened for a moment. He stopped touching Ben, his attention suddenly focused entirely on his face. “You really _don’t_ know me.” It wasn’t a question.

“I really don’t,” Ben confirmed. The boy had pulled his hand out from under his shirt, and Ben was torn between being glad about that, and somewhat disappointed. The wall at his back was rough and cold against the fabric of his uniform, but he leaned heavily into it, as Jamie’s weight eased off him. The confused and hurt expression in the boy’s eyes tugged at him. “I’m sorry,” he ventured.

“Och, you’re th’ _other one_ ,” Jamie said after several seconds of silence. His brows were still knit in concentration. “I guess there _would_ be two.”

“Two what?” Ben asked.

When Jamie looked at him, it was if an electric charge coursed between them. “Two of _you_ ,” he simply said.

“What now?”

“The Doctor,” Jamie said, a faint smile tugging at lips that were still darkened from their kissing. “He’s going to take y’ on a ride today. With Polly. And someday, you’ll meet me.”

Ben thought this was all ludicrous. He’d been around enough delirious sailors and drunken homeless men that he was more than keen to put down anything that seemed too extraordinary. Why he was letting a stranger tell him these things as if they were truths, let alone feel him up in a back alley when he was supposed to be meeting up with Polly one last time before shipping out, was beyond his comprehension. Still, something about the look in Jamie’s eyes, and the way Jamie touched him, made him doubt. “I don’t understand,” he said. After a moment of hesitation, he added, “But I think I want to.”

Jamie laid a hand on his chest, not quite keeping Ben in place, but keeping a measure of contact between them. His eyes were soft, almost sad. “You’re going t’ travel through time and space, first. Then you’ll understand.”

Ben shook his head. “What? You mean you’re saying you’re from the future?”

Jamie opened his mouth to reply, but after a moment he tilted his head and broke into a grin. “Aye, I suppose I am, in a way.”

“I’m sorry mate, but I just don’t believe you,” Ben said.

Jamie didn’t reply, just slid his hand down Ben’s chest and over his abdomen, to cup at the bulge growing in his trousers. The boy’s body moved closer again, as he gave a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have t’ believe me,” he said huskily. “I just need y’ t’ be all right with _this_.”

One part of Ben wanted to deck the boy for his brashness, but a much greater part wanted to feel those rough fingers against his skin, and to be properly tossed off by someone who knew what he was doing. He swallowed hard as he felt Jamie’s mouth fall against his throat again. “All right, mate,” he whispered, raising his hands to clutch at Jamie’s broad back. “All right.”

Jamie’s hand returned to pawing at Ben’s burgeoning erection, but, still unable to figure out how to undo his pants, the Scot soon grew frustrated. In one easy move, the thicker body of the boy pressed up against his. Ben gasped as the length of Jamie’s body rubbed up against him, while at the same time, a hot, warm mouth bit at the curve of his neck. “Ben,” Jamie groaned.

“Hold up, mate,” he whimpered. Jamie braced one hand against the brick alley wall, eagerly rubbing himself up against Ben. “ _Cor_ ,” Ben ragged, his nails clawing into Jamie’s jumper. “Mate, if you keep this up, I’m going to make a mess of my pants.”

Jamie grunted in reply, his breath now coming in low gasps. “Well, help me out,” he growled.

It took some maneuvering, but Ben managed to loosen the drawstring at his waist and slip his trousers down around his hips. He let out a low moan as the tight fabric was loosened. Jamie soon found him again, palming him through his pants. Ben hissed explosively, his hands gripping Jamie tightly so he wouldn’t mess himself right there. “Fuck me,” he groaned, and then quickly opened his eyes to make sure Jamie wasn’t taking that suggestion too seriously.

Jamie was just smiling, enjoying every moment of this. His hand left the comfortable bulge to tug at the waistband of Ben’s pants. It took only a second to get them around his hips too, but Ben felt like it took much longer. He’d never had an experience like this before, up against a wall, with a stranger or not, and he was finding it far more arousing than he’d possibly imagined.

Jamie pressed up against him again, only now Ben was fully erect and anxious, and the boy’s stomach sandwiched his length between them. Ben wished Jamie would touch him. He longed to feel those large, rough hands against his hot skin, but Jamie seemed to have other plans in mind.

The boy’s mouth clapped back over his, and this time Ben returned the kiss with wild abandon. Jamie tasted so different from any girl he’d ever kissed, but remarkably refreshing too—there was something natural about the way the boy tasted, and the things he did with his mouth and lips had no comparison.

The rough texture of Jamie’s kilt tartan, however, wasn’t as satisfying. Boldly, Ben reached down with one hand, fumbling until he found the hem of the kilt. As they roughly kissed, Ben searched beneath the yards of fabric and finally found Jamie’s hard, hot cock.

Ben gasped when he touched the boy, a bit stunned how easy it was, and how hot, and large, he was. But it took only a moment to recover from that, and within seconds, he had Jamie’s kilt pushed up, out of the way. Slightly more maneuvering had Ben pulling their cocks close. He squeezed them together, causing Jamie to break the kiss to gasp on his own, and then he began to slide his hand up and down them, as they rubbed against each other.

It wasn’t exactly easy, what with the way Jamie was trying to grind against him, and their combined breadth, and how dry things were. Still, Ben had to admit, it was nice: very nice.

“Here,” the boy whispered, breaking the kiss for a few seconds. “Let me.”

Ben knew that some part of him ought to be jealous of the boy’s larger hands, and the easy way his own hand was nudged aside so the more experienced of them could take the lead. He knew he ought to be jealous that everything about him was smaller than this younger Scot, but he wasn’t. He didn’t need to hear the words to know that Jamie adored him just the way he was. He didn’t need to understand the how or why to see that he was special to the boy. He didn’t need to question why the boy was skilled at this, or how he knew just what to do to drive Ben wild. It was all right. Jamie was bigger, and he didn’t mind. Jamie was younger, and more experienced, and it didn’t bother him. Everything was just right, the way it was.

And the way it was, was that the boy had him pushed into a cold brick wall in a public alley not more than three blocks from the barracks, with their cocks weeping and rubbing against each other. The Scot’s larger hand easily manipulated them together, managing a wonderful sensation unlike anything Ben had ever felt before. It wasn’t sex, and it wasn’t really a hand job, either. He wanted to thrust into Jamie’s warmth, and when he did, he felt Jamie doing the same, moving against him, cock-to-cock.

In the back of this throat, he gurgled. If Jamie had been shirtless, Ben’s close-cropped nails would have been leaving small crescent shaped marks along his back. As it was, he buried his burning face against the curve of the boy’s neck and let himself go. It wasn’t hard. With Jamie’s breath rasping in his ear, and the skilled hand rubbing him against Jamie’s length, and the wonderful absurdness of the situation, Ben didn’t imagine it’d take very long at all.

His body began to tense all over, starting in his shoulders, and settling down into his balls, which suddenly felt tight and hot and neglected. “Jamie,” he gasped at last, lifting his face. “Cor, Jamie, I’m gonna—” and then Jamie was kissing him as he came, and it was unlikely anything he’d ever felt before. His lungs ached for oxygen, and that made everything clearer, sharper— _better_. He felt wave after wave roll through him as his body jerked out its orgasm, and all he could taste was Jamie. 

It wasn’t long before the Scot’s mouth went lax against his, and the kissing stopped. Ben’s fingers began working knowingly into the boy’s shoulders, massaging his back. And then Jamie shuddered into him, his face tightened and without even a grunt he came, too. With the boy’s hands still wrapped around both their cocks, Ben felt like he was riding a second wave of his own.

He sagged against the wall, and when Jamie finished, he held the boy up against him, propped there from their exhaustion.

Jamie’s hand dropped away, and Ben felt cold and warm all at once. He pressed his mouth to the bit of flesh exposed above Jamie’s polo neck jumper, and tasted the skin there. It was salty and tangy, like metal. The boy’s hair smelled clean, almost sterile, and whatever this was, he didn’t want it to end.

“All right?” the boy asked with a burr so thick it was almost just a mumble in Ben’s ear.

Ben opened his mouth to reply, but just found more skin and kissed it again, nodding while he did. He felt Jamie smile against him, and then one strong arm was snaking around his middle.

“We’re a right mess,” Jamie said, gently pulling away from Ben’s mouth. 

The eyes the boy gave him were dark and shy, and after the act, they looked uncertain. Ben quickly disengaged his amorous affection, and hung his head while Jamie stepped back, studying his palm. One of Jamie’s hands was a mess, and there were a few drops on Ben’s left shoe. 

“Sorry,” Ben muttered.

Jamie lifted his eyes. “What for?”

Shrugging as he carefully pulled his trousers back up and tied them in place, Ben said, “The mess.”

Jamie shook the most offensive of it off, shrugging. “Been through worse, believe y’ me.” His smile returned, but without the needy heat behind it, Ben could tell the boy was still uncertain.

Overcome suddenly with the urge to make things all right, Ben struggled for something to say. “Fancy a pint then, mate?” he ventured. “There’s a pub just around the corner.” He didn’t have the time or the money for a drink, but he had to say something.

“Och, no,” Jamie replied, but his smile became a bit firmer. “I’d better get back t’ th’ Doctor, and I suppose y’ had better, too.” His eyes were still sad though, and Ben got the impression he was sad to see this moment end.

Everything about this week had been absurd, Ben decided. Computers coming to life, machines destroying London, himself meeting the Prime Minister and helping the Doctor save the city, and now this. It was just absurd. He half expected to wake up any moment now, only he found that he didn’t really want to.

Jamie smoothed out his kilt with his clean hand, making sure it fell properly again, and looking none the worse for the wear. 

“Will I see you again?” Ben asked.

“Oh, aye,” Jamie said with a smile. “Y’ just told me that y’ and Polly arrived back here on th’ same day th’ Doctor took y’ away.” His smile was natural and light, the wariness seemingly completely alleviated. “So, you’ll be seein’ me real soon.”

Ben smiled and shook his head. It was all too absurd to believe. “Right, then. You’re going to be with the Doctor when I meet up with Polly again, to give him back his key?”

Jamie’s head tilted. “No, no’ yet. But, I will be there, soon.” He stepped close again and kissed Ben gently. It wasn’t even full, and landed mostly on the corner of his mouth. “I’ll take care o’ th’ Doctor for y’ from here on out, all right? Y’ give my best t’ Polly, an’ take care o’ her.”

“I will,” Ben said, even though he didn’t even understand what was going on anymore. 

Jamie stepped back, still smiling. “Now, y’ can no’ go and tell me about all this, when y’ meet me again, y’ hear? I won’t know what you’re talking about.” His grin broadened. “But y’ jus’ keep at it, all right? I’ll come around, eventually.”

Ben had no idea what to say to that, so he just nodded. And then Jamie waved and turned to go and at last Ben pushed off the brick wall, taking a step after him. “Jamie,” he called.

When the boy turned back to him, Ben realized he didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t like he could ask the boy to stay, or to explain to him what the hell was going on, or to take him with them. Some part of him didn’t even want to know. He’d had enough weirdness to last a lifetime.

“Jus’ go and see th’ Doctor, Ben,” Jamie said. “It’ll all work out from there, I promise.”

“All right,” Ben replied. They smiled at each other a bit, and as Jamie turned to go again, Ben said, “Thank you.”

The words caused Jamie to laugh, and he nodded his head as he did, turning to wave at Ben as he reached the end of the alley. “No, thank _you_ , Ben.” He paused there, taking one final look at his debauched sailor in the alley, and before he disappeared around the corner, said, “Be seein’ y’ real soon.”


End file.
